Scars
by ZeDancingHobbit
Summary: Sticks and stones may break their bones, but a lifetime leaves them scarred. AlMei. Entry for Day 1 of AlMei week. One-shot. Complete.


**This is my entry for Day 1 ofAlMei week over on Tumblr. (If you feel like checking me out, my username is thouroughlyobsessed ) I figured I'd share it on here. Prompt was "Scar". And my babies are plenty scarred My poor children. I love them so much. **

***Disclaimer*: I own not, therefore sue me not**.

OoOoO

Mei Chang is scarred.

Numerous attempts upon her life, all by assassins from clans grasping for a handhold on the coveted Xingese throne, have left her perfect, ivory skin marked (but in no way flawed). Not that Alphonse is at all familiar with the exact details of her skin. Of course he doesn't study her hands as they carefully outline a complicated alkehestric array-even though he does know that there is a thin line on the back of her left palm and a crescent moon imprinted on the thumb of her right. No, he doesn't find himself accidentally stealing sidelong glances at her during their daily meditation sessions, where her face is set in concentration and her legs-the ones with a six inch lightning bolt streaking across her left calf and a burn roping over her right thigh-are twisted into impossible contortions he, even with his fairly lithe body, can only dream of.

And he most definitely doesn't stare at her face as she reads aloud from a scroll-he should probably pay more attention-and wish he could kiss away the tiny line just above her right eyebrow (a poison dart's handiwork, she told him once).

So when she feels the weight of his stare and lifts sparkling black eyes to meet his, he blushes a deep, furious red and fumbles with his own scroll in an attempt to hide his subtlety (or lack thereof).

Once, when going swimming in a serene mountain lake, he caught sight of the remnants of what was once a deep gash snaking around her ribs. Though she laughed him off and told him it was nothing more than a visit from the Chen clan, no longer of any importance, he felt sick for days. The image still haunts him, burned to the inside of his eyelids like some perverse tattoo. He thinks about a man-or woman-hunting down Mei (_his_ Mei); the idea of a knife carving through her tender flesh, an assasin reveling in the innocent blood flowing from their work, sends his blood boiling.

Be this as it may be, Mei Chang, princess of the Xingese Empire and favorite sister of its emperor, is incredibly strong-maybe the strongest person he knows, except for Ed-and she wears her scars as a badge of honor, of survival. Still, Alphonse is horrified that someone-anyone-would dare lay a finger on his beloved princess. Mei can fight-and win, as the bruises littering his back (and butt and arms and ribs and everywhere) can attest to. Even so, he vows to protect his bean princess with all his might.

For as long as he is able to protect her, Mei's skin will be scarred no longer.

oOoOo

Alphonse Elric is scarred.

Not on the outside, no. His skin is, for the majority, still clear of blemish as the blessed-and cursed-day he arrived back from the Gate. He has grown since then, of course-limbs elongated, muscles filled out, face matured (no, she has not been studying him and no, she is not blushing as she thinks about him). He is still as good-looking, kind, gentle, and passionate as the day she met him.

But he is scarred.

His soul bears the deep markings of a life not untouched by pain. Thick, roping scars entangle themselves around his soul, tug at him, stretch and claw and _hurt_ until he's yanked out from the night-terrors by the sound of his own screams ripping from his throat. His _xi _is marred, his life force the smallest bit different than a normal person's might be. Suits of armor accidentally stumbled upon send a quickly suppressed hiccup of fear rippling through him that causes her to glance up in concern, his agitated flow of life warning her something isn't right. A tattoo that, glanced at out of the corner of golden eyes, looks suspiciously like an ouroboros makes him flinch away before apologizing profusely for his rudeness, an embarrassed smile on his face and sweat beading on his neck.

Alphonse's body may be back to normal, but his soul never quite will be.

So she wakes up in the middle of the night, heralded by his strangled cries, and sits with him on the veranda, watching his tense muscles slowly relax as the cool breeze kisses him (no, she doesn't secretly wish it were her own lips brushing across the shuddering skin). She places a soothing hand on his shoulder and leads him away from the armor-later she will demand all suits be taken away and melted down for scrap. She sends a dangerous glare by way of signal to the offender that their tattoo of a crimson, normal snake coiling around a sun needs to be c_overed up_, or so help her their body will be covered with dirt six feet under in the near future.

Al is strong. He is not weak in the slightest. He is mighty and kind and good. His soul is the soul of a warrior. But it is scarred.

And Mei promises to herself that as long as she is alive, his gentle soul will not suffer the cracks of scarring again.

OoOoO

**If you'd like, just drop me a review :3**


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